


Where Else Would I Be?

by SoftlyandSwiftly



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, happy fic, never explicitly stated, the suggestion of a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftlyandSwiftly/pseuds/SoftlyandSwiftly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn's home again after leaving One Direction, and he's having more trouble adjusting than he'd thought. He's just tired, and he misses the boys. Luckily, a certain boy fixes that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Else Would I Be?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! So I wrote this short little thing to cheer myself up about the whole Zayn leaving One Direction thing. (I one hundred percent support his decision though!) Anyways, I figured I'd post it to maybe help cheer you guys up too. It's meant to be just a light, fluffy, happy fic. Let me know what you think and thank you for reading!
> 
> xx Taylor

Zayn probably should not be here right now. Actually he’s one hundred percent certain that he should not be here right now. He should still be locked up in his parents’ home, hiding from the world and letting his family coddle him. That’s the agreement he made, and he’d meant to stick to it. Really he had. It’s just...

He can’t _breathe._ It’s not the same as before (definitely not the same, because that was choking, that was a blocked airway and turning purple and feeling like he had died and nobody had even _noticed_ ), but it’s still not what he actually wants.

He wants to be free.

Zayn’s not entirely sure actual freedom will ever exist again. Not for him, and somebody should have told him what exactly he was signing away with that pen when he was so young, but he’s not bitter.

Not really.

He’s fucking exhausted though.

Twelve days after total implosion, and Zayn’s still so fucking tired. Twelve days since he walked onto that plane. Eleven days since management forced him out of the band in private. Ten days since he realized it was for the best. And now nine days of adjusting, of the news breaking, of trying to figure out who he is now.

_Y_ _ou’re Zain Malik, babe. Always will be. Xx_

Liam had texted that to Zayn three days ago, and it had meant... well, everything honestly. Because it was Liam. Because he meant it. Because it was Zayn’s name, but his real name. His actual name, and it’s... there aren’t actually words for why that matters, but it does.

And he hadn’t even texted Liam first because he wasn’t sure if he could. Liam was still on tour, still so far away, but he’d texted that like he’d known. And it was exactly what Zayn needed, a little reminder that this change is what he wanted, what he needed, and he doesn’t regret it. Not at all.

So Zayn’s adjusting to being just Zain again, almost hungry for it actually, and he swears he really does feel better (truly and unconditionally better) but he wishes this transition to normal lad could happen faster.

He’s reminded – stupidly – of that one Eagles song Niall favors so much and – _you can check out any time you like but you can never leave._

Yeah, this feels a bit like that. Because Zayn’s done, he is; it’s official. But he’s still trapped. Still Zayn while trying to be Zain, and it’s going to take a while before he’s actually out of it all.

So he’s hiding out at his parents’, and he’s so grateful (especially after the mess with Perrie and the publicity thing which he’s flat out refusing to think about) to them for it, but it’s still hard to breathe. Even if the responses are mostly positive, and everyone’s being supportive, it’s still hard.

And yeah, okay he can admit why it’s actually hard.

It’s hard because he misses the boys – his boys, those four lads that became more than brothers to him. He aches with the loss of them, phantom limb syndrome and separation anxiety all rolled into one, and he doesn’t care how ridiculous that sounds. It’s just how they function after everything they’ve been through, and he wouldn’t dismiss it or them.

So he can admit that he misses them, terribly. He misses Niall’s easy smiles, and Harry’s slow ramble, and Louis’s chaotic presence, and Zayn wishes that his last memory of them wasn’t of when he broke the news to them.

(Harry’s tears, and Niall’s frown, and Louis’s anger – not at Zayn, never at Zayn, but at the situation around them. And it had sucked. The hardest thing Zayn’s ever had to do, or well. No, it’s the second hardest).

It’s been twelve days since Zayn imploded, so it’s also been twelve days since he’s seen the boys which means... He hasn’t seen Liam in twelve days.

And well that’s just –

He misses Liam is the thing. He hates to admit it, but he misses Liam more than he misses the other three boys combined. He misses Liam’s smile and his laugh and his eyes and his stupid face honestly, but more than that, he misses the way he could count on Liam’s presence, the way Liam was always there, just seconds away. He misses Liam being next to him – _Right next to you, Leeyum_ – and it hurts that Zayn’s the one who traded that away.

It hurts, even if Liam had understood that the choice really wasn’t about him at all.

(Of course Liam had understood. He always does, when it comes to Zayn).

It hurts almost as much as telling Liam had hurt but different.

Telling Liam had hurt because Zayn had been afraid and anxious and angry, and he hadn’t been _sure_ – sure that Liam would understand, sure that Liam would still love him, sure that Liam wouldn’t hate him.

But of course Liam had. Of course Liam had just accepted it when Zayn said I’m leaving. Even if he’d cried (and he had, silently) Liam had accepted it immediately because he _knew._ He knew better than anyone how much Zayn hated everything his life had become, so he’d cried but he’d accepted it. In the end, Zayn’s the one who sobbed, and Liam was the one who wrapped him in a tight embrace, murmuring reassurances and making promises.

And Liam was also the one who stayed pressed against Zayn’s back as he’d told the other boys. Liam’s the one who booked Zayn his flight. Liam’s the one who saw him off.

(And he’ll never tell anyone, but Liam’s the one who pressed close in that airport, who leaned his forehead against Zayn’s and offered _I could go with you._ He’d knocked Zayn’s breath away with that offer because he’d meant it. Liam had genuinely meant it, even though he wasn’t self-destructing like Zayn, even though this life was still everything he had ever wanted. He’d offered, and Zayn had cried because it was so much, too much. It was exactly what Zayn had needed though, to settle him, and he’d been able to leave after one last bittersweet goodbye and a sworn promise from Liam that he wouldn’t do anything drastic in the aftermath).

So Zayn’s actually here – where he’s not supposed to be – because he misses Liam. He can blame it on all of the other shit all he wants, but this place reminds him of Liam, and he knows that’s why he’s actually here right now.

He misses Liam, and this quiet coffee shop just a short drive from his parents’ house reminds him of the other boy. Zayn thinks it’s just the atmosphere of the place, the way it smells, how it makes him calm just like Liam does, and it makes little sense because Liam’s never even been here, but it’s just the way it is. This place reminds him of Liam, and so he came here.

“Brooding?”

Zayn blinks into focus and then smiles sheepishly when he realizes that he’s at the counter and the girl working is clearly waiting for his order. “A bit, sorry.”

She just smiles, and Zayn likes her. She never says anything about Zayn’s life, even though she definitely knows who he is, and though he’s come here seven times since he came back, she hasn’t commented on that either.

Zayn steps up to the counter. “Sorry,” he repeats. “Just a bit more tired today.”

(Which is nothing but the truth, because they called today. That nameless entity that Zayn had thought he was done with. They’d called about possibly bringing him back, and Zayn’s not sure what the fuck he’s supposed to do with that. So he’s definitely more tired than normal).

She surveys him, this average girl with a nice smile, and her eyes widen as she undoubtedly takes in the bags under his eyes, and then she’s shoving a coffee towards him already. “Shit yeah. You do need this.”

“I – sorry?” Zayn picks up the coffee automatically, inhaling deeply, and yeah, that’s definitely his normal coffee order. Shit, it’s bad if she remembers his order already, if she’d had it prepared for him. “Oh Christ. Right that’s embarrassing. How much do I owe you?”

The girl just shakes her head, a small smile on her lips. “No charge.”

Zayn pauses, hand almost to his wallet, and frowns. “I can’t accept a free coffee.”

She laughs. “It’s not free. He already paid.” Her chin jerks toward the corner by the door, the corner Zayn favors with a comfy couch and solitude.

He turns, uncertain, and then he promptly drops his coffee because _oh._

Liam grins at him like an idiot, eyes crinkling with the force of his amused smile, and it’s very familiar. Everything’s familiar, from his worn jeans and plaid shirt to his beat up boots and easy stance, but its unfamiliar _here_ because Liam’s never been here.

He’s definitely here now though, grinning at Zayn, and Zayn’s moving before he thinks it through. He wishes he could say that they don’t do that cliché movie reunion run, but he’s fairly certain that they actually do. Zayn’s fairly certain that he actually ran at Liam because when he slams into him, it’s with force, and Liam rocks back as his arms come around Zayn.

And Zayn just melts.

He snuggles into the embrace, and his nose buries itself in the collar of Liam’s shirt automatically, inhaling, and yeah, Zayn was right. This place smells like Liam. Liam’s arms tighten around him, firm and gripping and unrestrained, and Zayn wants to laugh when Liam buries his nose in Zayn’s loose hair. They’re pressed tightly together knees to hips to chests, and Zayn’s not moving. He’s definitely not moving because this is the best he’s felt in days, wrapped in Liam’s arms.

“You’re not meant to be here,” he mumbles, voice buried in the stretch of Liam’s shirt. He can’t believe he didn’t see Liam when he came in, that he was so distracted with missing Liam that he’d actually _missed_ seeing Liam. It’s ironic and stupid, and Zayn’s a bit loopy because Liam’s here. “You’re not meant to be here,” he repeats stupidly because it’s all he can think.

Liam laughs, shuffling closer. “Suppose not.”

“No, seriously,” Zayn frowns, shock fading as he actually processes that Liam’s really here. “How’d you even know about this place?”

“You mentioned it, after the last break. Said you liked to get coffee here.”

And oh, coffee right. Shit. “I dropped the coffee you bought me,” Zayn admits, voice guilty, and if his face wasn’t pressed into Liam’s chest still, Liam would definitely make fun of him for the childish frown he can feel tugging at his lips.

Liam just laughs again, one hand coming up to card through Zayn’s hair out of pure instinct. “‘s fine, man. I’m rich, think I can afford to buy my mate a coffee or two. Especially since he’s technically unemployed now.”

It’s said so lightly, in such a teasing tone that Zayn doesn’t even tense up. He just smiles into Liam’s warmth, so ridiculously relaxed. “Shut up.”

Liam snorts, overly and obviously fond, and Zayn just –

He’s possibly in shock still honestly because Liam’s here. Liam’s here, in this coffee shop that’s just minutes from Zayn’s parents’ house, and he clearly came just for Zayn. He flew all the way back to England just to see Zayn.

( _I could come with you_ ).

“You’re here,” Zayn whispers, and he means to say it with joy, but now he’s thinking. He’s thinking about how he wasn’t supposed to leave, how the tour is still happening, how the boys are meant to be in another country. The boys, as in including Liam.

Liam must feel him tense, because suddenly he’s pulling back a bit, just enough to untangle one hand and place a finger under Zayn’s chin. Liam doesn’t even have to exert any pressure for Zayn’s head to tip up, and Liam grins widely at that, at how pliant and relaxed Zayn is in his arms. Christ, Zayn’s missed him so much.

“Hey,” Liam’s face softens, brown eyes going sunshine-warm, and his smile is all soft edges and pink lips, and it’s unfair really, how inviting Liam looks. How reassuring. “It’s fine, yeah?”

“But –”

“Zayn,” Liam whispers, stopping the protest. “I mean it; it’s fine. I’ll handle it when I go back. I wanted to see you, so I came. I missed you babe.”

And Zayn – he should really press Liam for what he means, how he plans on dealing with it, how he even managed to leave the tour, if he’s going to miss any performances. There are a million questions that Zayn should ask Liam, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t, because Liam’s looking at Zayn like he’s worth whatever happens, like nothing matters except Zayn, and it makes Zayn’s heart protest weakly in his chest, pulse with love for this selfless boy.

“You’re here,” he repeats on an awe-struck whisper because fuck. Liam is amazing, really. A fucking superhero in disguise, Zayn swears.

Liam smiles again, cupping Zayn’s jaw and titling his head downward just a bit until his plush lips find Zayn’s forehead. Zayn isn’t even slightly embarrassed that his eyes flutter shut at the intimate contact, pulse fluttering as Liam presses a simple kiss to Zayn’s skin.

“Of course,” Liam mumbles, like it’s the simplest thing in the world what he’s done, like it was the only choice he could make. “Where else would I be?”

Zayn grins, eyes still closed as he presses in tighter, and they can’t do anything else because they’re in public, but this is enough. With Zayn’s arms wrapped around Liam’s middle, one of Liam’s hands still tangled in Zayn’s loose hair as the other stays on his chin, Liam’s lips still against Zayn’s forehead, it’s enough. Wrapped up in Liam’s arms will always be enough.

“Right next to you, Leeyum?” he whispers like a promise, not even really a question, because he knows. Zayn knows the answer, but he asks anyways.

“Right next to you Zayn,” Liam answers without hesitation, still obviously grinning because he’s happy. Because Zayn makes Liam just as happy as Liam makes him. “Always right next to you.”

And yeah, Liam is all that Zayn will ever need.


End file.
